


The Sharpest Lives

by xslytherclawx



Series: toujours pur [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Family, Gay Male Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Regulus Black-centric, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 13:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15316953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx
Summary: Later, some people speculated that there must have been one single moment, one defining moment, that pushed him to rebel. There hadn’t been. It had been more… an increasingly frustrating chain of events that had led Regulus Arcturus Black to realise that he’d made a fatal error... one he’d correct, or die trying.Selected scenes in Regulus Black's life, focusing on his relationship with his brother and his relationship with Barty.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As a fair warning, there's some amount of universe-typical homophobia, but no slurs, and nothing violent in that respect.

Later, some people speculated that there must have been one single moment, one defining moment, that pushed him to rebel. There hadn’t been. It had been more… an increasingly frustrating chain of events that had led Regulus Arcturus Black to realise that he’d made a fatal error... one he’d correct, or die trying.

Much to Regulus’s dismay, the more distant he felt from the Cause, the more Barty seemed to throw himself into it… and so the more distant he became to Regulus.

They had initially grown close due to their similarities, but it was now that their differences shown more starkly than ever.

Barty had always been passionate, arguably too much so, but Regulus had always rather thought that his influence had been the kind of rational counterweight Barty required. But now... with Bellatrix and Dolohov and Mulciber's combined influence... well…

The point was, there was no one moment where Regulus had decided enough was enough. Seeing Kreacher so abused had merely acted as the catalyst to his desertion, but he’d long decided the Cause was dead by the time the Dark Lord had asked him for use of his house elf (and Regulus, disillusioned though he was, knew better than to say no to the Dark Lord).

He knew, when he’d had time to recover from Kreacher’s story, to pause and collect his thoughts in order to regroup, that he was going to die. If the cave didn’t kill him, he was quite sure Barty would (and wouldn’t that be romantic?)

He wished, in a brief pang of childish longing, that his brother were there. That he could go to his brother for help; tell him how in over his head he was, how disgusted he was, that Muggles may not be as good as Wizards (and they certainly weren’t), but that the Dark Lord had shown himself more than willing to kill those from even the most ancient families if they got in his way.

And Regulus wasn’t about to let that stand.

But that didn’t mean… he couldn’t go to the Order, even if he knew how (which he certainly did not). They would never accept him, and, frankly, he didn’t trust that even Dumbledore could protect him from the consequences of desertion.

(If Barty didn’t kill him…. Bellatrix would  torture him…. Leave him so broken he’d be begging for the sweet release of death).

A look at his wristwatch caused him to start. He was due to meet Barty. He couldn’t back out… Barty would come to him instead, and he’d see Kreacher alive and well, and… Regulus wasn’t about to let that stand.

Regulus was sure the Dark Lord thought Kreacher dead.

So, rather than risk his life in the moment, he sighed and Disapparated to Barty’s dismal flat in Knockturn Alley. It wasn’t  Barty’s flat, proper, as he was still under the thumb of his pompous, terrible father, but he’d managed to secure enough money (through which means Regulus didn’t want to know) to get a secret place in a friend’s name.

Regulus, quite frankly, wasn’t sure how he got away with it, but he knew better than to ask that question

Barty was sitting leisurely on the ancient sofa that dominated the tiny living space. Regulus couldn’t deny that Barty lit up when he entered the room any more than he could deny the feeling of warm affection that flowed through him at the same.

But he had to do this. Even if Barty would never understand, even if it would make him murderous. Regulus had a conscience, for Merlin’s sake, and… if not for him, then for Kreacher and for Narcissa’s future child, and, loath as he was to admit it, for his brother. He had to do it. There was no alternative.

(Even if begging Barty to piss off to Siberia or somewhere the Dark Lord might not find them was becoming more enticing with every moment spent in the dingy apartment… he didn’t need silk and silver and family heirlooms… he just needed  Barty ).

But then Barty was kissing him, and rather than argue, or confess his stupid (suicidal) plan, Regulus kissed him back.

He realised, as they stumbled their way to Barty’s cramped bedroom, that he was doing this for Barty, too. He had to die, he knew, but Barty… Barty could live, and move on, and find a safe job somewhere in a postwar world.

He didn’t let himself think that it was much more likely that Barty wind up in Azkaban at war’s end. His father might have been a twat, but he’d protect his own. The Crouches were part Black, after all, and the Blacks protected their own.

(Bellatrix notwithstanding).


	2. Chapter 2

He wasn’t sure, looking back, that he really remembered meeting Barty. His grandmother had been a Black, and their parents tended to be in the same social circles (before the war, at least). They hadn’t grown up together, but they’d certainly met a few times at least before Hogwarts.

On the ride from King’s Cross to Hogwarts, Regulus had sat with his brother and his friends, and it hadn’t been until the First-Years were shuffled off toward the boats that Regulus caught sight of a shock of straw-colored hair.

He and Barty had gotten on different boats, and Regulus became too wrapped up in the Sorting ceremony to look for him once they’d reached the castle.

He knew, really, he had no worries about not being a Slytherin. But he still felt a flutter of anxiety as he got up in front of the entire school to sit on a stool and have a thousand-year-old hat put on his head.

 _Interesting_ , a voice inside his head that wasn’t his said as the hat was placed on his head. _I must admit, I’ve had nothing but problems with you Blacks lately. It seems you and your brother are set to break tradition._

 _No_ , Regulus thought desperately. _I’ve got to be in Slytherin. My whole family’s been._

 _As I recall, your brother is in Gryffindor_.

 _I’m not like him_ , Regulus thought. _He’s rash and impulsive and stupid. I’m not._

 _Hmm_ , the hat said, _No, I don’t think Gryffindor would be a good fit for you._

Regulus felt a flood of relief. _Slytherin, then._

 _Not so fast_ , the hat said. _I see here quite the thirst for knowledge. Studious. Clever. You would do well in Ravenclaw._

 _Ravenclaw_ ? Regulus thought incredulously. _No Black has_ **_ever_ ** _been in Ravenclaw._

 _No Black had been in Gryffindor until your brother,_ the hat said. _Ravenclaw could help you meet your full potential. Encourage your academic pursuits._

 _What about Slytherin_? Regulus asked.

 _Hmm,_ the hat said, _you certainly have a desire to prove yourself, and ambition… this is a tricky one._

 _I_ **_need_ ** _to be in Slytherin,_ Regulus thought desperately. _My parents will disown me and Sirius both if neither of us are in Slytherin. I can’t be a disappointment, too._

 _Are you sure?_ The hat asked. _I think that Slytherin would only encourage your worst habits._

 _I’m sure,_ Regulus thought. _I need to be in Slytherin_.

 _Ravenclaw is a respectable house, too_.

 _I need to be in Slytherin,_ Regulus repeated.

 _Very well_ , the hat said, and then, out loud: “Slytherin!”

Regulus ripped the hat from his head and made his way to the Slytherin table as quickly as possible.

Barty Crouch was next to be sorted, and he went to Slytherin as well. He slid into the spot across from Regulus after he was Sorted. The Hat had taken all of two seconds to determine that Barty was meant to be a Slytherin, and Regulus felt a pang of unfamiliar jealousy at the thought. He was sure his cousin Cissa would be writing his parents to let them know he’d become a Slytherin only after an embarrassingly long Sorting.

Barty was not the only person Regulus knew by a glance at the Slytherin table, but he was the only one not currently gossiping, so Regulus offered him a shaky smile. “So, Slytherin, huh?”

“Of course,” Barty said. “Where else?”

Ravenclaw, if you’d asked the Sorting Hat. “Well, I am a Black, after all.” He hoped that his arrogant tone drove even the smallest hint of doubt from his voice. His parents would have been apoplectic. He would have certainly gotten a Howler about disappointing the family… and while Sirius was apparently fine with such things, Regulus was not.

“So am I,” Barty said, “or near enough.”

Regulus nodded. And that, it appeared, settled it. From that moment until they graduated school, Regulus Black and Barty Crouch were all but inseparable.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barty talks about a Ministry Christmas party. Regulus wants no part of it.

It was a mundane Thursday night after Christmas holidays, and Regulus and Barty were alone in their dorm. Regulus was reading a thick volume on Grindelwald when Barty spoke up. “So, Reg,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Over hols… I ran into your cousin.”

Regulus had a lot of cousins, but only a few he could consider himself close to. “Narcissa?”

Barty shook his head. “No. Er, well, I suppose she’s  _ not  _ your cousin anymore, anyway.”

Andromeda. “My parents say we’re not to speak of her,” Regulus said, turning his attention back to the book.

“She’s got a kid, her husband works some Ministry job.”

Regulus knew he wasn’t supposed to care what Andromeda and her Muggle husband did, but his stomach did a strange twist at his friend’s words. “Barty,” he tried.

“I’m just saying,” Barty said. “Of course, I recognized her right away.”

“She abandoned the family,” Regulus said. “She’s  _ not _ a Black anymore.”

“Sure,” Barty said. “But that’s why she got disowned, right? Her husband?”

“She married a Muggle. I wasn’t there when she left, but Narcissa assures me the fight was loud enough that I ought to have heard it in Grimmauld Place.”

“Muggle-born, though,” Barty said.

Regulus furrowed his brows. “I suppose. What difference does it really make, anyway?”

Barty appeared to be ready with some snappy retort, but he bit back his reply. “I suppose it doesn’t. Make a difference, I mean.”

“Now will you let me get back to my book?”

“Fine, fine.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer after Regulus's third year, Sirius has a talk with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter, and this fic is so angsty that I've gone ahead and started writing a fluffy au where Regulus is a Ravenclaw. So. There's that.

The summer after Regulus’s third year at Hogwarts, tensions were high at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. The screaming matches between his brother and his mother had become nearly a nightly occurrence, and Regulus had learnt to keep to himself in his room. He had Kreacher, anyway. 

No one really saw fit to bother him in his room, so his summer homework was all completed but for one essay for Potions when Sirius burst into his room.

“Reg!” He exclaimed, “Let’s go do something fun!”

Regulus hesitated. He hadn't heard screaming immediately prior to Sirius bursting in, but that didn’t mean that this wasn’t a trap. “What is your idea of fun?” he asked.

“It’s certainly not homework. Come on.”

Regulus was suspicious, to say the least, of his brother’s motives. They hadn’t spoken much all summer, and even less the previous school year. But then Sirius had Regulus’s arm in an iron grip and he was leading him straight down the stairs and out the front door and through a dizzying path of streets and alleys until Regulus found himself in a bookshop of all places.

“You know,” Regulus started, “if you’d mentioned you wanted to go to a  _ bookshop _ , you wouldn’t have needed to drag me here.”

Sirius glanced around the shop, and Regulus realized with a start that his brother was  _ nervous _ . It was so uncharacteristic of Sirius that Regulus almost hadn’t recognized the look on his face. “This isn’t just any bookshop. Remus showed it to me last year.”

Regulus wished his brother would stop bringing up his stupid Gryffindor friends around him, but he knew better than to voice that opinion at the moment. He had no idea how to get home, after all, so he said nothing and decided to peruse the shelves.

He’d barely managed a cursory glance at what appeared to be a very niche subject shelf when Sirius turned him around. “Reg, I’ve got to talk to you.”

“Then you shouldn’t have brought me to a bookshop,” Regulus snapped, trying to worm his way out of his brother’s grasp, but it proved to be futile.

“You ought to have been a Ravenclaw,” Sirius said, but the jab was missing its usual teasing tone. 

That, strangely, was enough to make Regulus stop struggling. Well, that and the fact that his struggling had apparently attracted some onlookers.

“We’re brothers,” Sirius said to no one in particular, or maybe it was to Regulus. He continued, his voice lowered, “And as much of a fucking swot as you can be… I need to talk to you, okay?”

“Then talk,” Regulus said. “I’m not stopping you.”

“You’re such a little fucking prat, you know that?” Sirius said. 

Regulus frowned, but thought better than to respond. He wanted a chance at some of these books, and he’d left all of his pocket money at home. Perhaps Sirius had some.

Sirius seemed to take a moment to compose himself before trying to talk again. “So, er, I’ve been thinking about how to say this…” 

“Then just say it,” Regulus said, eager to get back to examining the bookshelves.

“You can’t tell anyone,” Sirius said, unexpectedly serious. “I mean it. Not Mum, not Dad, not Kreacher, not Cissa or Bella, not Barty, not any of your other friends… no one.”

“Okay, okay,” Regulus said, although internally he was intrigued at the prospect of a secret. Something about Sirius that no one else in the family knew. Something that maybe even his stupid, annoying Gryffindor friends didn’t know.

“It’s just, I had this whole thing planned, and… none of it’s working out like I’d thought, so maybe I should just come out and say it… and I’m serious, Reg, you can’t tell  _ anyone _ . I’d make you do an Unbreakable if this place weren’t swarming with Muggles….”

_ That _ explained some things, like why everything seemed so static… except for the people who had continued to go about their normal business after their small altercation.

“I won’t,” Regulus promised.

Sirius seemed to relax slightly, but Regulus could see that he was still anxious. Whatever this was, it was huge, and Regulus felt himself practically vibrate with the potential.

“Okay,” Sirius said. “I can… say this…” He took a deep breath, and Regulus thought idly that he and his brother hadn’t talked for so long in years. “You know Uncle Alphard?”

“He’s our uncle,” Regulus said, “of course I know him.”

“You know how he’s not married, right?”

Regulus nodded. “He’s our  _ uncle _ .”

Sirius worried a bit at his lower lip. “You know how he’s… well, he lived with Dorian Rosier for a while. Before Dorian got married.”

Regulus remembered. Dorian Rosier had gotten married  _ very _ late for a pureblood, but it wasn’t something that was discussed. “I’m aware,” Regulus said.

“Do you… know why?”

Regulus tried to think. He’d assumed, as a child, that his Uncle Alphard and Dorian Rosier had simply been very close friends, but… something about that seemed off in a way Regulus couldn’t quite articulate. Pureblooded, adult men did not live together like that. It wasn’t done. But he couldn’t think of  _ why _ . “I don’t,” Regulus said after a moment.

“It’s… because Uncle Alphard and I have something in common, actually.”

Regulus didn’t think Sirius’s long-stated desire to remain a bachelor well into his life was something that warranted… all of  _ this _ , so he remained quiet.

“And… I haven’t… told a lot of people this, Reg.” Sirius seemed reluctant to meet Regulus’s gaze, and Regulus, for one, just wanted his brother to get on with it already. “You know Bertram Aubrey?” he asked.

Regulus nodded; Aubrey was in Sirius’s year, and a Ravenclaw. He’d seen him hanging around with Sirius and his friends a bit the previous year, which had struck him as odd, but he’d shrugged it off.

“Well, he’s not just… not just a friend.”

“What do you mean?”

Sirius took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I’m gay. Bertram is my boyfriend.”

And without really needing to think on it, a million seemingly disconnected remarks and actions fell into place, as if Sirius  _ saying it _ were the last piece of the puzzle. Of  _ course _ he was gay. And… Mum was going to be furious when she found out, more furious than she’d been when Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor.

“Oh,” Regulus said.

Sirius opened one eye. “That’s it? Just ‘oh’?”

“What do you want me to say?” Regulus asked. “It makes sense. Girls follow you around all the time and you never seem to pay them any mind. I always thought it was you thinking you were better than them, but that’s not it, is it?”

“It’s not as if I’m unaware of what will happen when Mum finds out,” Sirius said. “And I think, truthfully, some part of me repressed it for so long, it was almost like… I felt like if I held it in any longer, I’d have created some sort of… gay obscurus or something.”

“Gay obscurus?” Regulus repeated. He knew, of course, what an obscurus was, but he was fairly certain that one of those only came about when a child was repressing their  _ magic _ , not their sexuality. 

“It was tearing me apart,” he said. “And I couldn’t… I had to tell you. And… my friends know, too, but that’s it.”

“Uncle Alphard doesn’t?” Regulus asked, because what else could have been the point of bringing him up without it being some sort of gentle let-down that Regulus wasn’t even the most important  _ Black _ to his brother?

Sirius shook his head. “I wanted to tell you first. Uncle Alphard… helped me figure it out, though. And James. Listening to him yammer on about Evans all the time… the things he says about her. I realised I don’t… feel any of that, about any girl, but… I feel something like that toward blokes. And, like, he and Evans don’t have anything in common! And that’s always confused me, how so many people want to be with people they have nothing in common with, just because they think they’re hot. I guess… the whole… standard heterosexual courtship ritual stuff has always been confusing to me but it took a while to figure out  _ why _ .”

“Oh,” Regulus said. Sirius’s words sounded achingly familiar, but Regulus knew better. Sirius was a Gryffindor, a public stain on the family name. Regulus was a Slytherin, and a proper pureblood son. So he did what he did best: shut those unwanted emotions down. “Erm. Thanks for telling me,” he said, unable to think of anything else appropriate to say in response. “And I won’t tell anyone else.”

Before Regulus knew what was happening, his brother had him wrapped in a tight hug. “You can be a right pretentious little swot at times, Reg, but you have a good heart, you know that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a gay bookstore, just fyi.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus has a panic attack, and Sirius makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one day I'll come up with a coherent posting system. today is not that day.

The next summer was even less peaceful, if possible. Knowing that he and Sirius shared a secret had made going to school with him a little less alienating. Sirius had actually acknowledged Regulus in the halls, even when he’d been with his friends, and for a few short months, Regulus began to hope, childishly, that maybe things would be okay with Sirius. He’d move out when he turned seventeen, obviously, but… he’d be there for him.

That was, of course, out of the influence of their parents.

Regulus had neglected to calculate how detrimental that could be.

Christmas and Easter had been bad enough, but they were nothing compared to summer.

Even on the first night back that summer, there had been a screaming match between Sirius and his parents, and Regulus felt a swell of anxiety at the realisation that he couldn’t safely say no curses or hexes had been among them.

Sirius stomped up to the landing where their bedrooms were and slammed his door shut with such force that Regulus felt his bed shake.

He knew, really, he ought to see if his brother needed anything, but… he couldn’t bring himself to cross that gap. At least, Regulus was almost certain, their parents didn’t know that Sirius was gay. That would buy him some time.

Time until what, Regulus wasn’t sure. Perhaps once Sirius got out of the house… once he was seventeen…

* * *

Barty stopped by the next day, and they took tea in the garden. Sirius was out, with friends or a boyfriend, presumably, and their father was out on business (which was never _actual_ business, Regulus knew by now)… and their mother, somehow, had deigned to leave Regulus alone.

“It’s been torture,” Barty complained. “I don’t care that it’s been less than a day. I don’t know how I got Father to let me come here, to be honest.”

“It’s not been much better here,” Regulus said. “Sirius and my parents have had a screaming match already.”

Barty winced in sympathy. “When we turn seventeen, we should get a flat together.”

Regulus wasn’t sure what it was – Barty’s words, his tone, the way the sun caught his straw-colored hair to make it look like spun gold, or the delicate shadows of his face in the early afternoon sun, but he suddenly felt completely overwhelmed by emotions he’d been pushing aside for far too long. Chief among them was an inexplicable urge to kiss Barty right then and there, to see if his lips were as soft as they looked.

He realised, as the world ground to a screeching halt, that blood and appearances were far from the only things Regulus and his brother had in common.

His heart pounded in his chest, and he couldn’t quite remember how to breathe. He was going to get disowned for this, if his parents found out. Perfect little Slytherin son or not. He needed to marry a pretty, proper pureblood girl – preferably from another Sacred Twenty-Eight family – and have proper pureblood children.

He couldn’t be with Barty – he couldn’t be with _any_ boy.

But the thought of being with a girl, of having sex with a girl, of having a family with a girl, made him feel sick.

He was going to get disowned.

And, with a twinge that felt like a knife twisting in his gut, he realised Sirius _knew_ . All of it – the screaming, the over-explaining his attraction to other boys, the _acknowledgement in school_ – were clear-cut signs that Sirius _knew_.

And Sirius wouldn’t tell, but if _he_ knew, then who else did?

Regulus felt like he was drowning, and he knew Barty was becoming concerned, but he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t _do_ anything. Because he was going to be disowned and if he were lucky, he’d have his brother, but his brother could get help from the Potters and why would the Potters ever help _him_? The Crouches certainly wouldn’t.

The next thing Regulus was aware of was strong hands on his shoulders.

“Merlin, Reg, I’m gone for two hours and you have a panic attack. _Breathe_.”

It was his brother. Sirius.

“ _Breathe_ , Reg,” Sirius said, demonstrating.

And so Regulus took a deep breath, and let it out. And then another, and another, and eventually… he realised he was crying in the garden because he’d found his best friend attractive. Or because his best friend had asked him to move in with him once they’d come of age.

Sirius offered him a shaky smile. “Okay?”

Regulus managed a nod. “I think so.”

“Good.” He schooled his expression into something like lecturing. “Don’t scare us like that again, okay?”

“Okay,” Regulus said.

He was _gay_. He suddenly understood what Sirius had meant the summer before about a gay obscurus. It had felt like it was _suffocating_ him. But gay wizards didn’t exist. Not pureblood ones, anyway. They grew up and married respectable witches and had children. There were so few of them to begin with, after all, it wouldn’t do to have any number not reproduce out of anything but a physical inability to do so.

He wanted to talk to Sirius about it, but not with Barty there. It was easier, somehow, to imagine telling Sirius one-on-one.

“And to think I just came back to get my broom,” Sirius said, but the look in his eyes was still serious, and concerned. “Will you be okay if I go over to James’s for the rest of the day?”

Would he? Regulus wasn’t sure. He felt calmer, but whether that was because he was truly okay, or because his brother had cast some sort of secret calming charm, Regulus wasn’t sure.

“I’ll be fine. Uh, Barty just mentioned… moving out, and I got… emotional.”

Sirius frowned. “No kid should have to live with people like them,” he said.

“We just have to wait until we’re seventeen, right?” Regulus said, feeling calmer than he felt.

“Yeah,” Sirius said.

“Go listen to Potter whine on about that Muggle he has a crush on,” Regulus said, feeling suddenly embarrassed. “I’ll be fine. Potter’s probably wondering where you are now.”

“Okay,” Sirius said. He looked doubtful, but he headed toward the broom shed anyway.

Regulus turned back to Barty, who looked… well, like he’d just witnessed his friend have a complete emotional breakdown at the idea of living with him. Regulus took a sip of his tea. “I hadn’t… realised how appealing the idea of getting out was,” he said, and it wasn’t _entirely_ a lie. “Living with a friend.”

This seemed to mollify Barty. “Then we’ll just have to figure out how to shake our families’ expectations of us. We don’t all have an older brother to take that curse for us.”

And, with a sinking feeling, Regulus realised that Sirius may very well be willing to, once he told him. Sirius had taken the brunt of the family’s unpleasantness, but it wasn’t as if Regulus had been granted a healthy and peaceful childhood. Both of their positions were precarious… but Sirius was his older brother, and had never been shy about protecting him before.

* * *

Regulus hadn’t had a chance to talk to his brother alone that night, nor any night for the next week. It seemed that Sirius’s version of spending afternoons in the garden was spending the entire day with Potter.

And, well, it wasn’t as if Regulus could fully blame him, but he still did. Because he needed to talk to him, damn it.

Unexpectedly, one rainy afternoon after an owl from Barty apologizing for being unable to stop by that day, Sirius knocked on Regulus’s bedroom door.

Regulus knew he’d been hiding. After all, there were far more comfortable chairs in the library than the one at his desk. But he bookmarked his page and opened the door.

Sirius walked right in as if he owned the place. “We need to talk,” he said, and Regulus shut the door.

“Yes,” Regulus said, “we do.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow at that. “Why don’t you go first?” he offered.

And so Regulus cleared his throat and tried to find a way to articulate what he knew he needed to say. “That… day in the garden… it wasn’t really the thought of getting out that… affected me like that.” His eyes scanned the room for anything to focus on that wasn’t his brother’s face. “Barty said… he wanted us to get a flat when we turn seventeen, and… I realised I’d been… facing a sort of obscurus of my own.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Sirius said, and Regulus met his gaze after a few seconds. There was something on his brother’s face that he couldn’t place, which worried him. “Well,” Sirius said, “can’t really say I’m surprised. Out of curiosity… is it just blokes, or girls, too? Because Remus, you know, he goes for both. Well, he doesn’t _go_ , he’s too damn shy, but you get my point.”

“Just blokes.” Just _Barty_ , really, but Regulus rather thought that it would turn out, once he stopped repressing everything so much, that Barty wouldn’t be the only one.

“Then come with me,” Sirius said.

Regulus furrowed his brows. “You’re going to play quidditch with Potter in this weather?”

Sirius shook his head. “I’m leaving.”

“Leaving where?”

“Here, this house, this family. I can’t take it anymore, and I know you can’t either. I know James’s parents would be happy to have you, too. Reg, it’s crazy, they’re _nothing_ like Mum and Dad, they actually care about James and me and ask us about our day.”

“You’re… running away?” Regulus asked.

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Sirius said. But what else could he call it? He was abandoning his family, and sure, he was a Gryffindor, maybe he could afford that, but Regulus was a _Slytherin_ , and he couldn’t _leave_ , not if he still wanted any social circle. Barty _might_ stay, but he wasn’t even sure about that much.

For the first time, Regulus felt a deep pang of regret that the stupid hat hadn’t put him in Ravenclaw. Surely this wouldn’t be an issue there. There were two Ravenclaw boys in his year, and they seemed nice enough – and close to each other, too.

“Come with me,” Sirius repeated. “I don’t… I don’t want to leave you here, but I _can’t_ stay. I can’t wait until I’m seventeen. I won’t make it.”

“Sirius,” Regulus managed, “You’re a _Gryffindor_. You don’t have a common room full of all the children of the pureblood elite to face when you get back to school.”

“You could hang with me and my friends,” Sirius offered. “No one would are fuck with you then. I know Remus is a half-blood, but the rest of us… and it’s not like there aren’t half-bloods in Slytherin.”

He knew he’d never get an offer like this again. “You don’t get it,” Regulus said. “I _can’t_. We’d be _disowned_.”

“Regulus,” Sirius said. “We’re _gay_. We’ll be disowned anyway. It’d just be putting off the inevitable. Unless you think you can get it up for Seraphina Greengrass.”

The thought made his stomach twist uncomfortably. No, he rather didn’t think that he could manage that. But all the same. “My housemates would kill me.”

Sirius took in a deep breath. “Reg,” he said. “You’re my brother, and I love you, and I don’t want to see you stuck here. Please, come with me. I talked it over with the Potters and they both said it was okay. Please.”

He knew his brother had actually put thought into this, but Regulus knew what happened to his housemates who were vocally pro-Muggle. He couldn’t imagine disowned, homosexual blood-traitors would be treated much better, regardless of his feelings on Muggles and the importance of keeping purebloods _pureblood_. “I can’t. A-after graduation, I can, but not… not now.”

“I can’t protect you if you stay,” Sirius said, “and… neither of us can guarantee that they won’t both just move on to you, once I’m gone.”

“So why don’t you stay?” Regulus asked. It was stupid, and selfish, and childish, but he couldn’t imagine dealing with the pressure of his family alone. Even at Hogwarts, Sirius had never been far. Not really.

“I can’t.”

“And I can’t _leave_.”

Sirius took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was oddly restrained. “I’ll be at the Potters’ if you change your mind, or if you ever need anything. When I get blasted off that fucking tapestry… I’ll still be your brother, you know.”

“I know,” Regulus said.

Before Regulus could protest, his brother wrapped him in a hug. “I’ll miss you.”

* * *

Even for all that, Sirius didn’t speak to Regulus at all the following year at school.

One day, Regulus and his brother crossed paths, alone, in an empty section of the corridor. Regulus was on a prefect patrol. Sirius averted his gaze and kept moving.

Regulus had never hated James Potter more in his life. If James Potter had never met his brother, Regulus thought savagely, Sirius would be in Slytherin with him (or maybe Regulus would have allowed the hat to put him in Ravenclaw then), and he never would have abandoned him. Especially not after all of that absolute rubbish about always being his brother.

That night, he snuck into Barty’s bed after his patrol and cast a muffling charm before Barty had even processed that Regulus was there.

“I really want to kiss you,” Regulus said.

Barty’s expression shifted from concerned to elated in record time. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Regulus had always anticipated his first kiss being gentler, more tender. In a library, perhaps, with late-afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. Not… this reckless and hungry and messy affair in Barty’s bed past midnight with a muffling charm in place.

But at least Barty’s lips were every bit as soft as they’d always looked, and his hair was silky soft to the touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is canon-compliant, and y'all knew this was coming.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barty has a surprise.

It was that year, Regulus’s fifth year, when half of his social circle one by one slowly stopped rolling up their sleeves when the weather got warmer.

He knew, as they all surely did, that there were Dark Marks being shown in secret. Hushed whispers and quick glances in shadowy corridors. If everyone hadn’t already been avoiding looking at other students in the shower, they certainly were now.

After all, it was an unspoken rule that unless a friend  _ told you _ they had the Mark, you weren’t to know. That way, in the grandiose manner teenagers thought, if they were ever caught by the Aurors, veritaserum shoved down their throats, they couldn’t rat out  _ everyone _ .

Nevertheless, Regulus was surprised, to say the least, while making out in a spare classroom in an abandoned corridor, to find that Barty had the Mark, too.

It happened without much thinking.

Regulus was sat on a desk, with Barty pressed close to him. Things had escalated before, of course, but this time, as Regulus tugged on Barty’s tie, he felt his heart pounding in his chest in a way that wasn’t remotely unpleasant. He’d learned, in the past few months, not to let himself think about what would happen if they got caught. After all, Barty was a Crouch, another of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and he certainly understood the urgent need for secrecy.

Barty untied Regulus’s tie and broke their kiss for just long enough to tug his sweater vest up over his head. Regulus helped Barty to unbutton his shirt, and threw it aside as quickly as possible.

Barty’s eyes searched Regulus’s body, and Regulus felt himself flush at the look in his boyfriend’s eyes. Barty’s eyes found Regulus’s left arm, where the skin was as pale and clear as the rest of him.

“I’ll show you mine,” Barty whispered, taking off his own sweater and shirt.

And there it was, ugly and blood red against Barty’s pale and freckled skin. Regulus didn’t know why he’d anticipated differently, but the sight still made his stomach sink.

“When did you get this?” Regulus asked, deciding to kiss Barty’s neck instead of staring.

“Easter hols,” Barty said.

So it had been on his skin for two weeks now. And Regulus hadn’t known. He felt something like betrayal in the pit of his gut, but he swallowed it down. He decided, instead, to kiss Barty again, and to unbutton his trousers. He slipped his hand down Barty’s pants, and allowed the hitch in Barty’s breath to serve as his distraction.

* * *

“You know,” Barty said, after, as they lay sweaty on the classroom floor. “If you want to join up… you just need to ask. I know they’d be delighted to have another Black.”

Regulus hardly thought this was appropriate pillow talk, nevermind the fact that there were no pillows to speak of.

“Can we discuss this later?” Regulus asked. He kissed Barty again for good measure.

“Fine,” Barty said, “but we  _ will _ discuss it later.”

“Later,” Regulus promised.

* * *

As he lay in bed that night, Regulus found himself unable to sleep. There was too much to consider. 

Sirius had obviously been full of shit when he’d told him they’d always be brothers – he hadn’t so much as spoken a single word to him since he’d left, forget letters or actual discussions.

And, well, it wasn’t as if he disagreed with the Cause. He’d grown up in a household full of former Grindelwald supporters, and Regulus himself thought it was ridiculous that wizards should have to hide when they were so much more powerful than Muggles.

Signing up could help make up for the shame of Sirius leaving – and, possibly, for some of the shame of being gay. Maybe if he fought for the Cause… he might tip the scales just enough that his parents wouldn’t disown him for refusing to marry a pretty, proper pureblood girl. He’d still get to see cousin Cissa at holidays, and maybe she’d never look at him with the disgust that was always present in his nightmares.

Maybe he could still be with Barty that way.

* * *

Two weeks later, on the next Hogsmeade weekend, he and Barty snuck off with his cousin Bellatrix, and Regulus did it.

As the Mark was burned into his skin, he felt something like regret, but this way…. This way, he could be with Barty. This way, he’d do his family proud, as Bella insisted. This way, he’d show Sirius that he didn’t need him. This way, he secured his own future.

He hadn’t realised the full gravity of what he’d done until much later.

Perhaps the hat had been right to not put him in Ravenclaw after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dark Mark is, evidently, angry red when not active.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus begins to realise he's made a mistake... or, rather, several.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feat. a cameo from one of the characters from _La Magique étude de bonheur_

Regulus wasn’t sure how, but the following year, he had a sneaking suspicion that Sirius  _ knew _ . But how would he? Half of his housemates had no idea.

But in-between secret trysts with Barty… 

(which were getting less and less secret, because Regulus had  _ some _ level of security now, and Barty was getting ever more reckless; if Regulus didn’t know better, he’d think that Barty  _ wanted _ to get caught) 

… Prefect patrols… 

(he caught a lot of students sneaking around, but the only surprising one had been Maximus Scamander, a sixth-year Ravenclaw and his almost-roommate – had he let the hat make the right choice –  with a Hufflepuff seventh-year boy he didn’t know. Scamander was a lot fitter than he’d anticipated, and he’d very nearly come onto him then and there; he’d decided not to dock points, and if he thought about Max sweaty and shirtless when he was alone in the Prefect’s bathroom… well, who could blame him?)

… and Quidditch practise…  

(he was incredibly grateful to just be the Seeker, and not the captain, too, because he barely had any time to so much as glance at his coursework anymore)

… sometimes Regulus would catch his brother’s eye and see a look that he didn’t quite know how to place, but felt a lot like disappointment.

Perhaps he was simply imagining it all.

Regardless of whether his brother’s disappointment in him was real or imagined, Regulus felt a boiling anger toward him. If Sirius had never left… and how  _ dare _ he act as if he had  _ any _ idea what Regulus was going through?

He said as much to Barty one late night, sneaking back from a room they’d recently discovered on the seventh floor. “He has no idea what it’s like,” Regulus said. “He  _ abandoned me _ ,” – nevermind the fact that Sirius had all but begged Regulus to come with him – “abandoned the Family. He can go about with his Gryffindor prat friends like it’s nothing to him, because he’s never cared about the Family. Not caring about the Cause, I could live with, but… not caring about the  _ family? _ ”

Barty glanced around, briefly, and upon reassuring himself that they were, indeed, alone, he squeezed Regulus’s hand. “Maybe one day you can get back at him. He’ll be an Auror, probably.”

Rather than reassure him, the idea of facing his brother in a duel made him feel sick. Everyone knew in duels with Aurors, it was kill or be killed. He thought, unbidden, of Sirius’s anxiety when he’d come out to him what felt like so long ago. That Sirius had been there when Regulus himself had had a panic attack upon realising that he, too, was gay. That Sirius had, until he’d fucked off to live with the Potters, always stood up for Regulus to their parents.

The thought of killing him made bile rise in his throat. Anger and betrayal notwithstanding, Sirius was still his  _ brother _ .

“I, for one,” Barty said, seemingly oblivious to Regulus’s mental state, “can’t wait to go after blood traitors and Mudbloods. Your cousin Bellatrix said I showed promise with the Cruciatus.”

Bellatrix had been teaching Barty Unforgivables? Regulus was tempted to ask how long this had been going on, but he knew that he didn’t want to know the answer. Not really. 

So, instead, casting a glance around and seeing no one, Regulus shoved Barty against a wall and kissed him. “I love you,” he whispered, heart pounding in his chest, desperately willing it to be true because if not Barty, then who  _ was _ there? His parents didn’t care, not really, and Sirius had shown his true colours.

Barty grinned at the words. “Thought you’d never admit to that, Reg,” he whispered. He kissed him back. “I love you.”

They separated and continued the rest of the way down to the Slytherin common room in silence.

Regulus desperately longed for the days when everything had felt like normal, but he knew he was never going to get that back.

Perhaps, he thought naively, after the war. He could make amends with his brother, be together with Barty. The childish idea of celebrating Christmas with his brother and their boyfriends made him feel almost sick with longing. No, it wouldn’t do to dwell on that. They were in the middle of a war, and they had to finish that first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rosh Hashanah technically ended yesterday, but l'shanah tova!
> 
> Next Wednesday is Yom Kippur so uhhh I'll try to update on Tuesday, but if not... then Thursday.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus goes on his first raid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, but I'm actually managing to post on time because Yom Kippur didn't wipe me out as much as it did last year - so what better way to celebrate than posting... this?

Growing up a family like Regulus had, he’d learned all about Grindelwald from a young age. His family had all been supporters, after all, and at holiday parties after all of the adults had had a bit to drink, it had been par the course to discuss how much better off they’d all have been had Grindelwald won.

Regulus, for all his merits, for all his reluctance to face his brother in battle, rather thought that Grindelwald had had the right idea of things. 

An international hierarchy, with Wizards at their rightful position at the top, and Muggles forced to obey. No more hiding. No more secrecy. 

Death and destruction was waived off as “for the Greater Good”, and Regulus knew, as every Black child learned, that Albus Dumbledore himself had once seen the merit in Grindelwald’s ideas.

It had seemed, at first, that Voldemort had wanted to pick up where Grindelwald had left off: bringing Wizardkind out of hiding and putting Muggles in their proper place.

That had been before Regulus’s first raid.

In retrospect, he wished he’d listened to Barty and not eaten at all the day of. But that had seemed dangerous – what if he’d passed out?

But Regulus had had to duck between some bushes and remove his mask to empty the contents of his stomach. He was fairly certain that his brother hadn’t been on the opposite side this time, but the look in Barty’s eyes during the raid itself had shaken him to his very core.

The fear and pain of the Muggle family as they were tortured… Regulus tried to tell himself it was for the Greater Good, like Grindelwald would have wanted, but this… this was senseless violence. It was a power trip, meant to encourage dangerous behavior.

Regulus never wanted to go on another raid.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus sees someone he knows

With each subsequent raid, Regulus had learned how to cope. He learned not to look at their faces, to stay in a group so it wasn’t obvious that he wasn’t shooting Unforgivables. (It wasn’t necessarily that he _refused_ to cast them, but that in the heat of the moment, the best feeling he could hope for was _blank_ – he couldn’t muster the anger and rage necessary to cast a Killing Curse or a Cruciatus).

Sometimes he felt himself seized by some inexplicable compulsion to do something to get himself killed, but he always reigned himself in. After all, what was the point of all of this if there was no _after_ to think about?

The first time a Death Eater had been killed in front of him, Regulus was seized by the realisation that it very well could be him, that he could die just like that in the middle of a battle and perhaps no one would ever know how he’d died. He had needed to spend a great deal of time decompressing with Barty to even regain some sense of normality. After all, it could have easily been him.

While skill certainly played some role, Regulus was unable to deny the randomness of it all some days. He’d seen the most skilled duellers taken out by a stray curse, and while Regulus had always thought himself competent, there had been a level of politesse and respect for rules in his previous duelling experience. Here, there was none of that.

He’d been coping pretty well, all things considered, and had finally felt like he’d had a handle on things when he saw something that turned his coping mechanisms on their head and sent him into a panic.

Or, well, _someone_.

There was Sirius, in a tacky t-shirt with an ostentatious golden phoenix design (which, Regulus thought somehow in his panic, seemed to _glow_ ), back to back with stupid, pretentious, obnoxious Potter, wearing (of course) the same t-shirt, shooting curses at them. At him.

Regulus realised, idly, somewhere in the back of his mind, that his brother and Potter were shooting stunners, and not Killing Curses, but if Sirius caught him…

He felt like a scared, stupid child all over again.

So he did what he did best: stuck with the pack, hid in plain sight, hoped beyond hope that no one got close enough to make out the unique colour of his eyes.

And, the second it was over, and they were fleeing, Regulus, in a panic, Apparated right back to Number 12, Grimmauld Place, back to his bedroom. He tore his mask from his face, and threw himself down on his bed.

He was barely seventeen years old, it was summer hols, he should have been laughing and joking with his boyfriend, going to the seaside, preparing for the next term, being a teenager.

Instead, he’d faced his older brother, the boy he’d looked up to for longer than he ought to have, in a deadly battle and watched his brother take out half a dozen Death Eaters with Potter.

The thought came, unbidden. What would have happened if Sirius or Potter had Stunned _him_? What if they’d _captured_ him? Would Sirius treat him like a brother, or would he send him to Azkaban to rot with a smile on his face?

This time, Sirius wasn’t there to calm him down from what he realised far too late was a panic attack.

When he finally came to, his bedroom was dark, he was covered in sweat and tears, alone.

He had half a mind to go to Barty, but Barty wouldn’t understand. Regulus half thought that Barty rather wanted his father to be the one to catch him, some days. To bring some kind of public shame to his father’s reputation.

It took much prodding from Kreacher for Regulus to go clean the sweat and tears off of himself. On his way back from the bathroom, despite knowing better, he cracked open his brother’s bedroom, where everything had been affixed with permanent sticking charms to serve as a memorial of sorts.

Regulus heard a stair creak before he could as much as step a foot inside the room, and he shut the door as quietly as possible and rushed back to his own room.

After the war. Then things could go back to normal.

(But there was no normal to return to, and Regulus had to admit that he’d made a terrible and deadly mistake).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end here! Only three chapters left!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dark Lord requests an elf.

When the Dark Lord requested an elf, his gaze fell upon Regulus. 

Perhaps he could sense dissatisfaction (much as Regulus had been practising Occlumency and trying desperately to hide his traitorous thoughts) and wanted to kill the Black family elf in particular.

Perhaps he’d noticed (or heard) that Regulus Black had gone over a year in the Death Eaters without casting a single Unforgivable (this did not mean that Regulus had never used Dark Magic, had never done harm, but the Dark Lord was savage in his reliance on Unforgivables). Perhaps it was comeuppance for that.

Perhaps he was expecting great things from the cousin of his most valuable lieutenant, and he viewed it as an honor.

Perhaps he assumed the Blacks, with all their wealth and nobility, would have house elves to spare.

Perhaps his gaze had just fallen upon Regulus for lack of a greater reason.

Regardless of the true meaning behind it, Regulus found himself obligated to offer up the service of his elf. Kreacher had done nothing to deserve what the Dark Lord would surely do to him, but Regulus knew that there was no refusal to be given.

Not without torture, or possible death.

The Dark Lord blathered on about his invulnerability, how the Aurors and the Order would never manage to kill him. How he’d  _ ensured _ this.

And perhaps it was Regulus’s dissatisfaction with the whole affair. Perhaps it was his upbringing in the House of Black. Perhaps it was his bookishness and his truly Ravenclaw desire to know everything about everything.

But something about the Dark Lord’s words triggered the ghost of a memory.

It had been a stifling summer day, made only slightly more bearable by illegal cooling charms. Sirius had still been there, although he’d never been one to sit around inside even on the hottest days of the summer. And Regulus had found an ancient, intimidating volume about the darkest, most evil magic one could possibly create. Magic even the Blacks knew better than to practise. It was too dangerous for anyone to reasonably try.

But that hadn’t meant that Regulus couldn’t learn  _ about  _ it, even though he was reasonably certain he’d never actually attempt any of it.

And he’d  _ devoured _ the chapter on immortality. It had seemed impossible, to him, that when such methods were available, still most witches and wizards died barely over the age of one hundred.

He remembered, idly, as the Dark Lord spoke, that Grindelwald had sought the Deathly Hallows as a means for immortality. That he’d perverted the symbol so thoroughly that anyone caught with it in the past seventy years had been thought to be a Grindelwald supporter (and many were).

But the Deathly Hallows, something lofty and using magic perhaps not of this earth, were far too humane to be the Dark Lord’s means of choice for obtaining immortality.

That left the subject that had caused Regulus to hide that book in the darkest reaches of the library at Grimmauld Place. Horcruxes. Tearing one’s soul with murder and affixing it to physical objects, actually  _ stripping oneself _ of one’s humanity… well, Regulus had to admit, it definitely suited the Dark Lord’s taste. Magic that would make any reasonable witch or wizard, no matter how dark, shove the book away and hide it so as to never find it again.

And so Regulus assured the Dark Lord that of course he could make use of his elf. Kreacher was very devoted to the Cause.

And when he got home, Regulus told Kreacher that no matter what, he was to come back to Grimmauld Place.

* * *

Regulus listened as Kreacher recounted his tale. The Dark Lord’s harsh treatment of the elf made Regulus furious and sick to his stomach all at once. He hadn’t had a choice – but he had, when he’d signed up. No one had forced him in. He’d joined of his own free will and now his elf had nearly paid the price.

He forced himself to pay attention to every detail. It was a Horcrux that Kreacher had nearly been killed to help protect, Regulus was sure, so he asked Kreacher to describe the locket in as much detail as possible.

Regulus had always been clever, after all, and a plan couldn’t help but form in his head.

He knew he had to destroy the Horcrux. Even though it would cost him his life (and he knew, really, if the lake didn’t kill him, if the Inferi didn’t pull him under, his fellow Death Eaters wouldn’t hesitate).

He went back to school the next day, as his break ended, and assured himself that it was fine if he failed his NEWTs terribly.

He wouldn’t need them, after all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barty gets a new flat

“Here it is,” Barty announced with a flourish, revealing what had to be the most dismal flat Regulus had ever laid eyes on. “I had to move some money around - technically it’s not in my name, but it’s  _ mine _ . My shithead father’s too busy trying to catch us to realise I’ve even moved out.”

Regulus wanted to ask if the furniture had come with the flat, but had thought in the last moment that it was perhaps better not to ask.

He knew he’d done poorly on his NEWTs, and he’d seen Sirius in two battles alone since leaving Hogwarts (for good, this time). The last time, he’d been seized with a compulsion to out himself to his brother, but he’d controlled himself. He had a plan. And if he had his way, Sirius would know what he’d done.

(And the Dark Lord would, too).

He found, gingerly sitting on the ancient, dusty sofa with Barty, that he no longer cared about  _ after _ . Not when it came to himself, at least. 

“I know it’s crazy, Reg,” Barty said, “but I feel better than ever.”

Regulus had seen Barty torture a Muggle family during the last raid. Regulus had managed not to throw up, himself, but that had only been because there’d been nothing in his stomach to expel.

“Remember,” Barty said, leaning close, “when we said we’d move in together when we were seventeen?”

Regulus laughed. “Barty, my parents would absolutely disown me if they found me living in a place like this.”

“They’ll disown you for being gay,” Barty said, leaning in to kiss Regulus’s neck. “Living here would just be a fun bonus.”

But that wasn’t Regulus’s rebellion, and they both knew it. Still, his breath hitched when Barty bit him, gently at first, but then harder.

And, well, if he was going to die anyway, he might as well not deny himself basic pleasures, right?

* * *

Barty’s bed was, at least, new, which was a relief. It dominated the tiny bedroom, to the point where there was little room for much else.

They lay tangled together, sweaty and exhausted.

Regulus was going to miss this. But he still had a few months yet, by his measure. His replica wasn’t quite right, and he needed to write to his brother and try to figure out how Kreacher could possibly destroy the Horcrux.

If he could spend it all with Barty…

* * *

It would have never worked out, not without getting disowned. Regulus realised that now. He also realised, not for lack of merit, that Barty was leaning into this all with way more passion than was called for.

Perhaps, had there not been a war, had Regulus not spectacularly failed his NEWTS, had he some decent job prospects, had Sirius not abandoned him. If Regulus had landed a decent job with good NEWT scores, if Barty hadn’t ever had anything to do with Bellatrix… then things might be different.

But there was no changing the past. At least, not without serious consequences and advanced magic Regulus wasn’t confident he could muster. And even then, there was no guarantee of things turning out like he’d wanted.

At least if he destroyed the Horcrux, there was a chance that the future might turn out all right.

He just wouldn't be there to see it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regulus leaves for the lake.

Once everything was ready – the Horcrux researched thoroughly, the duplicate flawless, his plan thought out – Regulus turned to the thing he’d been dreading most.

He sat down at his desk, pulled out a piece of parchment, and thought about what to write. How  _ could _ he write what he needed to write?

He decided to start with a simple  _ Dear Sirius. _ There. That was easy enough. 

Now to figure out how to explain the rest. He knew he couldn’t tell his brother about the Horcruxes. Even if Sirius believed him, it would put him in far too much danger. No one else could know about that.

But he could tell his brother that he’d left.

He rather thought the other Death Eaters would think he’d been killed by the Order or by Aurors – he didn’t think he’d betrayed his intentions to Barty or anyone in his family. The Order and the Ministry, likely, wouldn’t care.

As for Sirius… Regulus felt some strong compulsion to ensure that his brother knew that he’d turned on the Dark Lord. If nothing else, then for some personal sense of closure.

He was going to die, anyway, after all.

_ If you receive this letter, then I will be dead. I’ll have left instructions with Kreacher to not deliver the letter until after the fact. _

There. That meant that Sirius wouldn’t do something stupid, like go looking for him.

_ I have realised my mistake far too late, and the chances of my survival are virtually nonexistent. I realise now that the Dark Lord must be stopped, and that I can no longer serve for his Cause.  _

_ I’ve considered all of my options, and none of them end in my survival – at least not one in a world that I want to live in. _

_ Please do not try to contact anyone in the family. Knowing why I will have done what I have to will only put them in more danger, especially with Narcissa’s baby on the way. _

_ You said once that you’d always be my brother. If that was true, then perhaps I’ve made you proud, or at the very least, undone some of the damage I’ve caused. _

_ R.A.B. _

* * *

He still had some finishing touches, but he sealed the letter with the family seal and put it in his desk. He’d tell Kreacher to ensure Sirius received the letter after he was already dead. There was no use, after all, getting it to Sirius before he died.

If his brother was still half the man Regulus thought he was, it would only put Regulus’s plan into jeopardy. And the Dark Lord needed to be stopped.

* * *

Two days after he’d penned the letter, Regulus went to say goodbye to Barty. It was a freezing winter night, and Regulus wondered idly if he’d freeze if he didn’t drown. 

Barty’s apartment was warm, and Barty talked animatedly about the Cause. Why couldn’t he see how terrible it all was? Muggles might not be worth as much as  _ Wizards _ , but to slaughter them so cruelly, to use them as playthings with the Cruciatus… Regulus forced himself not to think, forced the bile back down his throat.

To stop Barty talking, Regulus kissed him. “I need to go on a mission tomorrow,” Regulus said. “Top secret. Won’t be back for a while.”

“ _ You _ ?” Barty asked with a laugh.

“Yes,  _ me _ . Now what do you say we have some fun before I have to go?”

After all, Regulus thought, if the potion he was about to drink made him relive his worst memories, it was only fair to try to shove another good one in there. And if having sex with Barty didn’t bring him anything beyond physical pleasure anymore… that physical pleasure had to count for something, right?

* * *

“Kreacher,” Regulus called upon arriving home the following afternoon.

The elf appeared in Regulus’s room. “Master Regulus called.”

“I did,” Regulus said. He rifled through his drawer and got out his letter to Sirius. “We’re going back to that lake tonight, like I said, and please don’t protest.”

Kreacher, who had looked ready to lay his life on the line to ensure Regulus didn’t go, shut his mouth and looked ill.

“After everything, I need you to come back here and give this letter to Sirius. Do not read it, and do not tell  _ anyone _ that I had you give him this letter. Understood?” 

Kreacher nodded miserably.

“You are not to tell any of the family what I’ve done, and that includes Sirius. If they ask, tell them that you have no idea where I am, or when or even if I’ll be back. You can use excuses, but do not tell them the truth.”

Kreacher nodded again, pulling on his ears this time.

“I have to do this,” Regulus said. “I’m doing this for you, and for Mum and Dad and the Family.” And for Sirius and Barty, but he’d never tell Kreacher that.

“Even if Mum or Dad or anyone in the family orders you to tell them what’s happened, you are not to tell them the truth.”

After all, he had to protect them. Once he was satisfied that Kreacher would do as he said, Regulus readied himself for the cave. He made sure that he had the duplicate locket in his pocket, and he’d given Kreacher express directions to destroy the original.

He didn’t let himself think about what might happen if he failed. He’d already made too many mistakes to fail at this, too.

And so Regulus set off with Kreacher to the lake, to try to bring the Dark Lord down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always sort of wondered how Sirius and Remus both seemed to know so much about Regulus's death when it didn't seem like Walburga had ever been told he'd died betraying Voldemort (just that he had died) – let alone how long he survived after deciding to desert.

**Author's Note:**

> If I'm being perfectly honest, this is an "everyone is gay" rewrite of a fic I wrote a decade ago (also an "I've since learned how to write dramatic scenes that don't read like a teenage edgelord" rewrite). In that spirit, the title comes from a song from the My Chemical Romance album _The Black Parade_.
> 
> I'm of the opinion that Barty's never been really mentally sound, that Regulus even at the end was probably still too much of a racist asshole, and that Sirius was not the best at talking things out or thinking things through.
> 
> Written to [a steady playlist of gay & emo music](https://open.spotify.com/user/helle--/playlist/4L3AE5ylMDW5SD5CLIPqDl?si=3Lhr-MlOSJS_gLz0PEJ1eQ)
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr.](http://xslytherclawx.tumblr.com)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [La Magique étude du Bonheur](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15735828) by [xslytherclawx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx)
  * [Still Not Dead (it's a process)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16447889) by [xslytherclawx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx)
  * [the one he (thinks) he needs (and the one i loathe)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17855024) by [xslytherclawx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx)




End file.
